March 22
by MissMune
Summary: Drabble. It's Kenneth McCormick's birthday. And because he's a poor piece of white trash tells no one.


A/N: My first fanfiction in a while, this is.

Also, my first South Park fanfiction…

Hm… Anyway, this was a request from my good friend Reem (La-Abeja on this site). So, I really hope she enjoys this.

If anyone else does… that's a bonus!

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. Matt and Trey do.

Disclaimer two: Swearing occurs. (ZOMG, SWEARS IN A SOUTH PARK FANFICTION!?!? Insane!)

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March 22 – Kenny McCormick's birthday. It was supposed to be a day for joy and celebration (that he had lived for another year). But it never was. It never had been. And if a seven year old Kenny could help it – it never _would_ be.

It wasn't as though he didn't _want_ to have a party. No, parties were pretty damn cool, in his opinion (especially the ones with strippers) but having a party would be pretty much… impossible. It wasn't as though he had enough money to throw one, anyway. But that wasn't the point.

… Up until then, he had managed to keep it a secret that he was poorer than shit.

How, he wasn't quite sure. Everybody in the _entire_ town knew that the McCormick's were poor. They were the _token_ poor family of the town. He didn't even know any other poor people... Except the hobos, but they didn't count.

Maybe the kids just didn't know… He would have thought that they were just being nice, but he knew that Eric Cartman, his so-called bff, would have ripped on him _constantly_ for it, and he had failed to do so. 

Kenny preferred to keep it this way. And if that meant that he wasn't going to have a birthday party, than so be it.

But he knew it was only a matter of time before someone grew suspicious. He had been to all of his _friend's_ parties, after all.

Oddly, it was only a few days before his birthday that this happened.

The four boys were standing at the bus stop, as usual, when Stan suddenly mentioned (complained) his father's birthday. It had been held on the first of that same month and, apparently, Mr. Marsh had got a rock tumbler as a gift, used it incorrectly, and ended up killing Kenny… again.

"Sorry, dude," Stan had said.

Kenny had just waved it off. It wasn't a big deal.

"Hey, when is _your_ birthday, anyway, Kenny?" Kyle had asked, in good will.

Now, that _was_.

Luckily, before Kenny even had a chance to respond, Cartman had chimed in.

"Kenneh doesn't _have_ a birthday, Kahl, don't you know _anything_?"

Kyle had just looked at him like he was retarded, "You're retarded, Cartman. Of _course_ he has a birthday."

"No, I'm seriously," Cartman insisted, "Kenneh comes back all the time, right?"

"…Yeah," Kyle had agreed slowly.

"So you can't tell what his birthday is! _Duh_!" the fat boy said, sticking his tongue out in triumph.

"_No," _Kyle almost disagreed on principle, "He must go by the first time he was born, fatass!"

"Whatever, _Jew_," Cartman retorted.

"Er… yeah," Stan said, "So, when _is_ your birthday?"

Kenny didn't respond. He just stood there, hoping something would come along and kill him so he wouldn't have to deal with that question. "Umm…" he said muffled through his hood.

"See?!" Cartman unwittingly came to his rescue, yet again. "He doesn't _know_, you guys."

"Yes he _does_, Cartman!" Kyle yelled, before turning back to Kenny, "Don't you?"

"Umm…" Kenny repeated, still waiting for a comet or something to come down and squish him, "No?"

"_Nyah nyah nyah nyah, ha ha ha ha! Kenny doesn't have a birthdaaaay!_" Cartman teased, poking the air in Kyle's direction.

"Shut up, Cartman!" Kyle growled. "Just because he doesn't have one doesn't mean he can't have a party!"

"…Yeah!" Stan added, yet again. He generally liked to stay out of these fights.

"Tch, no he _can't_, you guys!" Cartman said, crossing his arms.

Kyle rolled his eyes, "Why not?"

Kenny panicked, "Yeah! Why not?" he said, muffled.

"_Because_, you guys! He's poor!" Cartman said, looking sly.

"_WHAT?" _Kenny nearly yelled.

"Kenny's not poor, you asshole!" Kyle yelled, angry that Cartman would accuse Kenny of such a thing. 

"Yeah he _is_, you guys!" Cartman said, clearly getting irritated with having to explain _everything_ to the Jew boy.

"Prove it!" Kenny piped up, for himself, furrowing his eyebrows in anger at the boy that was _supposed_ to be his best friend.

Cartman sighed, why didn't they just _automatically_ know what he was talking about? "I saw Kenneh at the welfare office!"

Kenny winced, but Kyle's reaction wasn't what he thought it would be. 

"…Why were you at the welfare office?"

There was a long pause, in which Cartman and Kyle stared at each other and Kenny and Stan stared at them. It was like some freakish battle of wills.

"Eh, geh…" Cartman sputtered, trying to think up a valid reason. Being unable to do so, he switched to plan B: "Screw you guys! I'm going home."

Kyle glared angrily after Cartman. "Stupid asshole!" he cried after him, cupping his hands to his mouth.

"Don't worry, Kenny," Stan said, turning to the orange-coated boy while Kyle continued to spout profanities in the wake of Cartman. "We don't care if you're poor."

Underneath his hood, Kenny smiled. Maybe he would be able to have a party this year! Maybe he-

His thoughts were cut short by several arrows piercing him at every conceivable angle. Needless to say, he didn't survive.

"Oh, sorry!" An archer said, waving to the remaining two boys.

"Great shot, dude!" another man said, high-fiving the archer.

Stan and Kyle just stood there. "Oh my god, he killed Kenny," Stan said, in monotone.

"You bastard," Kyle finished.

Unfortunately, but the time Kenny had returned, Cartman had spread the word that Kenny was poor. _Really_ poor. And he didn't miss _one_ chance to remind anyone of it.

And, even though there was no reason Kenny couldn't tell people what day his birthday was, it had never come up again. Nobody had asked. Not even Stan or Kyle. Kenny figured that they must have bought Cartman's explanation. The fatass did have a way with words…

So, every year after that, on March 22, he would get himself a candle and a cupcake, and wish himself a happy birthday.


End file.
